Elemental
by Mediancat
Summary: Buffy tries to figure out who's been slaughtering the demons of Sunnydale . . . with the help of a distinctly unusual vampire.


Another one of the stories I believed lost.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created Buffy and Giles. Sherrinford ain't mine, either;  
but you should figure out who created him quickly enough.

X X X X X

There had been a string of mysterious demon deaths in the area, and for once  
Buffy hadn't been responsible. Things had gotten so bad for the Sunnydale's demonic  
populace that they'd actually approached Buffy and asked for her help in  
tracking down whoever was responsible.

But even though the deaths were gruesome – as in, don't bother with the body  
bag, just find me a wetvac – Buffy and Giles were pretty well satisfied that the dead  
demons had been among the scummier and more bloodthirsty in town. So Buffy gave  
the demons' emissary thirty seconds before she pulled out the crossbow.

The demon made it out of sight in ten.

Still, Giles and Buffy both thought it best to keep an eye out for their  
mysterious new demonslayer, on the chance it decided to switch targets and go  
after humans.

A week or so later, Buffy was examining the latest kill – a Carba demon,  
surprisingly. Given the recent deaths Giles had thought it would be a good idea  
for Buffy to take a quick refresher on the demon species known to inhabit  
Sunnydale. Buffy'd only gotten half of it, but she remembered Carba demons. They  
were about four feet tall and ate insects, and as demons go were fairly friendly  
and harmless.

"This isn't right," Buffy mused as she studied the corpse. "Why'd our killer  
change like this all of a sudden?"

A harsh voice, distinctly British, spoke from behind, "Change? Indeed! But far  
from sudden, Slayer."

Buffy spun and saw a tall, oddly-dressed vampire watching her. Immediately she  
assumed a defensive stance. "Relax!" The vampire snapped. "Had I wished to harm  
you I would already have done so. I am not here to engage in combat."

"Well, if you know I'm the Slayer," Buffy answered, "You know that's kinda what  
I do with vampires."

"The demons sent for me to help solve the mystery of their murdered comrades,  
since you refused to do so," the vampire said. "I've no quarrel with you and  
will not fire unless fired upon. Now move."

As Buffy bemusedly moved aside, she said, "How DID you know I was the Slayer?"

"Simplicity itself, madam," the vampire said as he bent to examine the body.  
"You were standing here calmly examining a demon's corpse. Your stance, once you saw I was a vampire,  
was one born of long experience -- and you immediately discerned what I was. Consider  
also the stake you carry in your hand, or the crossbow peering out of that valise by your feet.  
Need I go on?"

"No," Buffy said wryly, "I think I get it."

"Good," the vampire said. "Now if you would be so kind . . . ." he bent down and  
looked closely at the head, a good five feet from the rest of the body. "Aha!  
Just as I thought," he exclaimed.

"What did you think?" Buffy asked.

"Look at this, Slayer. See those marks along the face?"

Buffy looked and saw what appeared to be claw marks gouged deep into the Carba  
demon's cheek. "So the attacker had claws. So?"

"Look more closely. Observe. The grooves are equally spaced, and equally deep.  
If this had been the result of a an attack by a naturally clawed creature –"

Buffy finished the vampire's thought. "There'd be more variety than this."

"Just so," the vampire answered. "I would conclude this was made by a fork of  
some kind. Perhaps to throw us off the scent of the truth."

"And what would that truth be?' Buffy asked.

"I'm not sure – hello, what's this?" he asked. Then he motioned Buffy over.  
"Confirm this for me, would you, please?"

Buffy looked where he was pointing. "A smudge of mud, a spent match, and a large  
drop of water. So?"

"I'm not entirely certain yet . . . . have you access to a spell book?"

"I know someone who does . . . why?"

"There's something in it I need to see."

"I'm not sure that Giles would grant access to his collection, much less his  
apartment, to a vampire."

"He will if you tell him that Sherrinford needs the information." He told Buffy  
the precise things to look for.

Buffy didn't entirely trust the vampire, but he'd given her no reason for  
mistrust other than that. "I assume you'll be here?"

"I've already gleaned what I can from the other victims, and witnesses, and  
there may yet be something here to discover." He pulled out a long, straight pipe and  
lit it. As Buffy turned to leave, Sherrinford said, "Tell your Watcher to check  
the progression of victims as well."

Still confused, Buffy walked off.

X X X X X

But if Buffy had been confused by her encounter with Sherrinford, Giles'  
reaction absolutely stunned her.

"Anything he needs," Giles muttered, reaching for a couple of his spellbooks.

"Giles?" Buffy asked in shock.

"Oh. Right. Well, on extremely rare occasions, a human being's personality is  
so forceful that it overwhelms the demon's natural instincts. Sherrinford is  
one of those. And he has done so much good in his time that the Watcher's  
Council – and in this I'm inclined to go along with them – has declared him off limits  
for killing until and unless he begins attacking humans." Giles began looking through the book.

"Whoa. If he's a good guy," Buffy said, "Why is he helping demons track down a  
killer?"

"Because first and foremost Sherrinford loves solving puzzles," Giles answered.  
"And as long as they do not substantially advance the cause of evil he's willing  
to solve them for anyone. Aha. Here it is." He pored through a book called Signs  
of Four.

"And the part about the victims' progression?" Buffy asked.

"Something I should have noticed earlier," Giles said. "The demons in question  
were getting less and less threatening, more and more innocent. Soon he likely  
would have progressed to humans or the otherwise utterly blameless. We must stop  
this creature while we can." Placing a solid metal bookmark in the middle of the  
spellbook, he handed it to Buffy. "This should be what he needs. I would  
strongly recommend you giving him whatever other assistance he needs."

Buffy took the book and left, if anything more confused than she'd been when she  
came.

X X X X X

Sherrinford was standing over the corpse's torso, examining the matchbook, when  
Buffy returned to the alley. "Did your Watcher discover the spells I was looking  
for?"

"He thinks so," Buffy said.

"May I have the tome?" The vampire asked acidly. "Or should I attempt to read it  
from there? Vampirism, I can quite assure you, does not enhance one's powers of  
telescopic vision."

Buffy walked over and handed him the book. "Has anyone ever told you you're not  
very nice?"

"Miss Summers," Sherrinford said, "We are in the middle of trying to trace down  
a killer who has managed to kill some of the foulest and most vicious demons that  
Sunnydale has proven itself capable of attracting. Given the circumstances the  
social niceties do tend to vanish." He paused. "Nonetheless, I do apologize for  
my behavior. It is a deplorable lack of logic on my part that allowed me to forget  
even for the briefest of instants that you are the Slayer."

"Apology accepted," Buffy said wryly. "Is the book what you needed?"

"Indeed. This is precisely the spell that was used. Now come! We must apprehend  
our villain before he strikes again!" And then he strode off.

Buffy followed Sherrinford until he stopped at the same hotel Faith had once  
used. "Okay," Buffy said, "What makes you think our villain is holing up here?"

"The matchbook I found near the body originated at this establishment,"  
Sherrinford said. "And it is known throughout the world of the preternatural  
that this hotel is the one to go to if one comes to Sunnydale."

"Really?" Buffy said.

"Oh yes. Now, quickly! Our quarry is inside and must not be permitted to  
escape!" Sherrinford then found the night desk clerk and got a room number remarkably  
fast. "I hope you don't mind," he said as the two of them left the office. "The clerk  
is himself a fellow vampire – his name is Alberto – and I promised him if he gave  
us the information we desired you would give him a pass for the next three months."

Buffy was a little annoyed at this. "But if I see him killing someone –"

"Oh, he realizes that. I would not be surprised if he used the interval to clear  
entirely out of town. Now, to room 217!"

Inside room 217 was, to Buffy's surprise, a sleeping human being; at each corner  
of the bed sat a small humanoid like critter, maybe two feet tall. When  
Sherrinford and Buffy entered they immediately yelped out, "COMPANY!" as one, in  
varying voices.

The bed's occupant – a sour-looking black man in late middle age – immediately  
jumped up and yelled, "Attack!"

The one nearest the door immediately turned into a dust devil -- powerful and  
tiny, while the one on the far end burst into flames and shot through the air  
towards Buffy. Buffy immediately had a thought and ran into the tiny bathroom,  
with the flaming creature right behind her. Then in one motion she turned on the  
faucet, grabbed the creature, and put it beneath the stream of flowing water.  
After about a minute or so it disintegrated.

Buffy then raced out to the main room. Sherrinford had somehow already dealt  
with the other three creatures and was closing in on the sorcerer. "Back off!" she  
told the vampire.

"I'm not going to kill him, madam," Sherrinford said. "I simply need to do . . . this."   
And he punched the man in the jaw, knocking him out.

"That was easier than I would have thought," Buffy commented, "if this is the  
same guy who's been making demon souffle out of some of the biggest bads in town."

"We caught him off guard," Sherrinford said. "He seems not to have had any  
inherent magical abilities." Then he reached for the man's wallet and looked  
carefully at the identification inside. He removed three credit cards, handing  
them to Buffy. The man's name was Thurgood Scott. "Dispose of these, madam,"  
Sherrinford said, and then removed about two hundred dollars and put it in a  
pants pocket. "Demons are notoriously unreliable with fees. Now, come! He must have  
his spell components about somewhere!"

Buffy found a whole desk drawer full of vials, herbs, and assorted animal parts.  
There was also a long, goo-encrusted fork in there. "Let's be sure we take that with us,"  
Sherrinford commented. "And, hello –" It was a photo album, the kind made for easy  
transport. Inside were the photographs of seventeen demons, two werewolves, and   
eight humans. The seventeen demons were the precise ones that had been killed, arranged  
in the album in the order of their deaths.

"Well, if we'd needed any more proof –" Buffy said.

"Indeed," the vampire said. "Now I assume you see why I've been purloining the  
contents of Mr. Scott's wallet."

"I think so," Buffy said slowly.

A flicker of a smile crossed Sherrinford's lips. "Let's see if you do. Our prey  
awakens."

Buffy walked up to the man as he opened his eyes and said, "I don't know for  
what sick reason you were killing those demons, and honestly I don't care. But you  
don't do what you're doing in my town. So here's what my pal and I thought.  
We're going to leave you here alive. But we're taking your money, your credit cards,  
and all your spellcasting gear. And then as soon as we leave ol' Sherrinford here is  
gonna place a few phone calls to some ticked-off buddies of these demons you've  
killed. I were you I'd start running."

Sherrinford took the spell components and walked out the door; as an added flourish   
Buffy stole the sorcerer's shoes. Then they made their way back down to the office, where  
Sherrinford telephoned a couple of demons. Buffy peered out of the office window and  
saw Thurgood Scott running down the street, having not even bothered to change his clothes  
before taking off.

Sherrinford hung up the phone. Buffy commented, "I'll give ten to one against him  
even making it past the city limits."

"I never accept fool's wagers," Sherrinford said.

"Before you head off, one question. How exactly were the demons being killed?"

"Those samples I found at the scene, the four homunculi we fought in the hotel  
room, they did not give you enough data to deduce the truth?" Sherrinford asked.

Buffy shrugged. "Nope, Still not sure. I mean, I know it was sorcery, but the  
type? How were they being killed?"

Sherrinford laughed. "Elementally, my dear Slayer!"


End file.
